


The Path I Walk Alone

by GothicLolita009



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-24
Updated: 2010-08-24
Packaged: 2017-11-14 22:31:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/520193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GothicLolita009/pseuds/GothicLolita009
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short series of vignettes in the life of Severus Snape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Path I Walk Alone

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters, settings, etc. belong to J.K. Rowling and Warner Bros. Pictures. It is being used without permission and without intent to copyright any material.
> 
> SPOILER WARNING: This fanfic has spoilers from the series, and in particular the Deathly Hallows. You have been warned.
> 
> A/N: I am dedicating this particular fanfic to my beta, MadameSnapeRhapsody, known to me by another name. She is my best friend, and I am proud to call her so.

"And what will you give me in return, Severus?"

He was speechless at first, his black robes floating about him in the wind and impending storm that threatened to blanket the countryside. Dumbledore had silenced the wind, they'd spoken, and he had pleaded for her.

"You disgust me."

Those words rang in his ears. In truth, at this particular moment, he disgusted himself.

Severus Snape had made the worst blunder of his entire existence. For the sake of a few moments of fame and a, "Well done, Severus," he had placed the only person who he had ever loved and cared for in immediate danger. Without seeming to, he had silkily suggested perhaps, since it was only the boy which need die, the mother might be spared?

Voldemort had said nothing, merely nodded and waved him out. Snape went to one knee, taking the hem of Voldemort's robe.

Already the betrayal was brewing in his closed-off mind.

Dumbledore had agreed to the meeting, wondering what it was that had caused Severus Snape, Death Eater and a hand of Voldemort, to contact him.

He had known about Lily. Hell, he reminded himself, had no fury like the scorn of a woman. Or, in this case, an angry and upset fifth-year girl who had been rashly if not entirely civilly cast aside. Her feelings had been no less true, but if Albus Dumbledore knew anything, it was that one could not choose where they loved.

"In—in return?"

Snape stammered a little. Though usually elegantly spoken and loquacious, the situation, what was at stake, all seemed to come crashing in on him. He could not speak.

He did not feel as if he could go on. If he did, everything would be revealed. His last secret, the one dear wish he kept locked away in his being would be bared. And before someone who was supposed to be his enemy!

It was not pride which kept him from speaking. To join the Death Eaters, one had to be trained in concealment, in hiding things with pretty words, and cursing someone into oblivion when elegance failed to accomplish the mission. To be a Death Eater was to wear both a literal and figurative mask.

"Anything," he said finally, half-slumped in an attitude of defeat and submission. The last strip of Snape's many-layered self was ripped away. He lay soul-bared before Dumbledore, and in the coal-black depths of the younger's eyes, was all that he needed to see.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, giving Snape a nod, "then what I require of you is this, Severus. Give me the information I need to protect Lily...her husband...their son. Give me Voldemort. The path you walk will be a lonely and dangerous one, and I do not ask this lightly of you. I ask it because I know you are prepared."

Snape's black eyes glittered fiercely.

"I am," he said, and bowed to his new master in a show of fealty.

He accepted the shackles which bound him willingly as the pair of Aurors brought him forward to stand in the dock. The group of curious wizards and witches did not exist in his mind. He blocked them and their murmuring out, eyes on Barty Crouch.

"Severus Snape," began the Inquisitor, "you have been summoned to this hearing to determine your fate. You are, in the eyes of the Ministry, a convicted Death Eater. However, due to mitigating circumstances-"

They were calling his change "mitigating circumstances?" Well, that suited him well enough.

"-Albus Dumbledore, to provide testimony."

Dumbledore had worn his most imposing robes, and in his own right looked as lethal and dangerous as Voldemort himself. Perhaps that is what he wished; it was hard to take him seriously some of the time. He took the stand, and seemed to soften a little as he looked at Snape.

"Professor Dumbledore—if you would, please give your testimony."

Nothing else mattered for Snape in that moment. His love for Lily, his desire to save her, his willingness to have her even at the cost of those she loved; it would all come out. Dumbledore would have to tell them all.

"-came to me some time before the unfortunate murder of the Potters," Dumbledore was saying, "admitting to me that he had indeed seen where he had gone wrong. I told him if he truly wished to make some sort of amends, he might turn spy for us. And he did, at no small risk to his life."  
Snape did not realize he had closed his eyes until Dumbledore finished speaking. It had not come out. Albus had kept his secret. He felt himself uncoil and relax for the first time in some time.

"One other witness has agreed to step forward," Crouch was saying, and from the crowd stepped a man with soft brown hair. He looked rather worse for wear, but his robes were clean and though shabby and frayed, he carried himself with an air of dignity.

It was Remus Lupin. The sight of him was enough to earn a cold glare from Snape. He stood in a mixture of disbelief and annoyance as he spoke eloquently and—highly-of his "colleague in arms and new-found ally."

'Wonder how long that will last,' thought Snape grimly as Lupin finished his statement.

There was more talk.

"The accused is sitll guilty as charged of consorting with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. However, due to the mitigating circumstances presented in evidence at this inquest, it is the opinion of this court that the accused be excluded from any form of sentence. So ruled."

And the gavel fell.

Later, in a dingy bar, Severus got a bottle of Firewhiskey and drank. He drank to his own self-loathing, his stupidity, his betrayal of all he ever loved.

It was in a drunken stupor that Dumbledore and Lupin discovered him at the end of a long evening.

************  
The graveyard was quiet when he arrived, hooded. The silver mask he wore felt familiar, like an old friend.

He was brought to his knees in pain as the Cruciatus curse tore through his body. He did not give any cry of pain or agony. He felt his tormentor relax it, ever so slightly. The tendrils of his mind came out to ensnare his own. With the practiced skill of old, he closed his mind, filled it with urgent thoughts of returning, loyalty, the equivalent of sweet nothings he would whisper to a lover.

Only then was he allowed to approach. Kneeling before him, Snape took the hem of the black robe.

"Welcome, Severus," said the high, cold voice.

"My Lord," he replied, rising to his feet.

"Explain," he went on, "why you did not return at once...and give me your report. My good and faithful servant—yes, my loyal spy and friend."

"Of course, my Lord," said Snape, and began divulging thirteen years of information to the waiting Voldemort.

He arrived before most of the others, greeted warmly by Molly Weasley. After declining her offers of refreshment, he waited patiently at table. Hearing a shuffle from above, his eyebrow raised quizzically as Remus Lupin came down and into the kitchen.

"Lupin," he said, eyes passing over to the empty kitchen, the full teapot. Remus went over, pouring two cups. Setting one in front of Snape, he took a place across from him.

"Severus," said Lupin softly, "there is one thing I would like to know; why do you insist on continuing to walk down your path alone? I am sure there are capable-"

"Because, Lupin," snapped Snape tersely, "the path I walk was chosen for me a long time ago. It is not one which I choose to burden a companion with, either. I began alone, and it will end for me alone. I've no further wish to discuss it further."

"So, Remus—what're you and ol' Snivelly going on about now?" asked Sirius Black as he came to linger in the doorway.

"Sirius, honestly—must you continue to ridicule-"

"I do not wish or want to be defended by anyone, Lupin. Least of all you."

The statement brought the pair of Marauders and their banter to a halt at once.

Snape was quiet during the meeting, only speaking up to ridicule Black for his sentimental regard for his godson.

"You stay out of this, Snivellus," snapped Sirius, his voice low and dangerous, "you're not in this."

Black did not know how right he was. The feeling of Black snapping at him angrily was a comforting, familiar one. He then gave his report almost lazily.

Pulling his outer robes on after the meeting, he gave a nod to everyone, and gave in to the call of the dark path he walked alone.

It had taken him back to the side of the newly reborn Voldemort.

The high, cold voice spoke to the snake he had been enclosed with. Whatever order she had been given, it meant the end.

He cried out, pulling at the cage as he felt the pair of deadly fangs pierce his neck, the cry turning into a gurgling plea.

"I regret it," he heard Voldemort say, collecting Nagini and sweeping from the room.

His talented fingers immediately traveled to the deep wounds, dizzily attempting to apply pressure at the veins which had been pierced. He barely felt himself fall to the dusty floor as he struggled to breathe.

Though his body was moving wildly in an attempt to save itself, a corner of Snape's mind was strangely lucid. He felt himself traveling there, where all was warm and comfortable and safe. But then he was jolted back to the present by her eyes. The beautiful pair of emeralds which had belonged to Lily were looking down at him again. For a moment he thought he saw her, but clarity returned and he saw Harry, leaning over his prone form in confusion and alarm.

"Take it," he managed to gasp, "take it."

The boy looked confused as Snape struggled to bring thoughts to the surface. His heart twinged with pain as Lily rose, saintly and beautiful to the foremost part of his mind. Dumbledore; his mentor, friend, whom he had murdered. No matter what the reason, the deaths would mark him in some way forever. And then, finally, the key to Voldemort's defeat.

With a certain amount of irony, Snape realized that the young man in front of him had been chosen, just as he was, to walk a dark path. And also, like him, that path had to be traveled alone. Like him, he was scared and uncertain, but the courage he would need was already within. It simply needed a little guidance which only Snape could give, combined with the love of his friends would ease him along the right path.

Harry lifted the memories which Snape had given up into the flask, and he began to feel himself drift away. While it somehow managed to sicken him to ask this final thing of the boy, it would give him the forgiveness and absolution which only she could give him at long last.

"Look—at—me," Snape whispered.

Harry looked at him. Finally, his body no longer under his own command, Snape felt himself drifting, floating away toward a light which he had not seen before. He did not look back, did not wish to look upon the scene of his death, hear the hysterical cries-

Remus Lupin, well and whole, a half-smile on his face, was the first thing he saw.

"Severus," he said, putting up a hand in greeting.

"Why are you here, Lupin?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You don't need to walk this path alone, Severus," he said, "and I'm here to be sure you don't. Let's go."

"Let's."


End file.
